


Track 10- What A Feeling

by graveltotempo



Series: Made in The Maze- MITAM Project [1]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M, Sad Newt, Songfic, kinda UNI AU, mitam project
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 03:27:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6221770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graveltotempo/pseuds/graveltotempo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“But you got stars, they’re in your eyes<br/>And I’ve got something missing tonight<br/>What a feeling to be a king beside you, somehow<br/>I wish I could be there now”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Track 10- What A Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> It's beeen a longgg day, without you my fandommmm
> 
> It's actualy been so long since I posted a TMR fic, wtf!
> 
> Come and find me on [Tumblr](zouisprideflag.tumblr.com)

10\. What a Feeling

 

__

_ “But you got stars, they’re in your eyes _

_ And I’ve got something missing tonight _

_ What a feeling to be a king beside you, somehow _

_ I wish I could be there now” _

 

 

Everyone had that moment in their lives, where everything is absolutely perfect, and yet… and yet it’s not.

It’s Christmas Eve, and Newt is sitting alone at a bar, instead of being somewhere with his family and relative to celebrate. It’s not like he couldn’t, if he wanted to, drop by Thomas and Teresa’ house. He was sure that Thomas would have accepted him with his hands open, and the rest of the Agnes siblings would not have had heart to tell him to leave.

It was kind of pathetic, sitting down in a bar, at such a late hour on Christmas Eve. He wasn’t alone, though. He could see a number of other men and women, scattered around the bar. And let’s not forget the bartender. His long time friend Winston.

It was sad sometimes, the fact that Winston was the only one of his group of friends who always spent Christmas alone in his bar, doing nothing but serving other people with food and liquors. But thank god that he at least was there.

Newt was a 25 years old man, for God’s sake. He had finished University, with the highest marks in his English course and already had a placement in one of the most nice and rich school in the City. Everything was perfect in Newt’s life.

And yet here he was, at bloody 10 pm on Christmas Eve, drinking one of Winston’s special drinks and whishing that he was somewhere else. Wishing he was still with Minho.

Newt shook his head, gripping tightly his glass. Minho was a closed chapter in his life. Minho was in freaking Korea with Gally and Brenda, working on god knows what noble social cause. Something to do with the organisation he worked for ‘Glade’.

Minho had been in Korea for 3 years, and still Newt woke up sometimes in the middle of the night, hoping that he would… come back.

It was pathetic of him.

Minho had made his choices and Newt had made his. He remembered how Minho had asked him to come in Korea with him. to come and live with him, and be happy together. But even as he had spoken, there had been defeat in his eyes. Minho had known, before asking, what Newt’s answer was going to be.

Newt had wanted to be a English literature teacher for as long as he could remember. Since he was in High School, he had been repeating to everyone about how he was either going to become a successful drama student or an English literature teacher. After his accident, he had continued to pursue a career in English, going as far as moving from his comfortable house in London to an unknown room in Harvard University to achieve what he had wanted, to pursue his dream.

And then he had met Minho. Minho Yale, one of the smartest yet laziest people Newt had ever met. He had been studying social studies and politics in UNI, and had always been a bit of an idealist. He wanted to change the world, to save the world.

He was vegetarian, an activist for women rights, human rights, and helped running many anti discrimination campaigns. He was so different from Newt, so caring and so active. Newt had always secretly admired Minho for his courage, and for his braveness: the boy always spoke his mind, even on controversial topics, no matter what.

He was one in a billion. But things had needed to happen: they had needed to be practical. Newt wanted to study and become a teacher. Minho had wanted to start doing something about his future. The break up before Minho left was to be expected.

This didn’t mean Newt didn’t miss him.

* * *

Minho dropped his bags in a corner of the room, closing the door behind him. it was weird finally being in a house, after having spent 3 years in anything but a house. It was sort of comforting. Still, it wasn’t a home.

He was glad that Brenda had decided to keep him and Gally at her place until they both found a house or somewhere else to stay.

She and Gally had decided to go and buy some groceries to make the house a little more Christmassy and happy. Minho had chosen to stay home, not wanting to ruin the other two’s joyful mood.

Christmas. Minho had never celebrated Christmas di per se. His mother had never seen the point in the festivity, and his father hadn’t been much around as Minho grew up. He had always seen Christmas as some sort of capitalistic privilege or something like that.

But, during the two years that he had spent in UNI, Christmas had become something special. Something between him and his boyfriend only.

Growing up, Minho would have described Christmas using examples like Santa Claus, chimneys, presents, sugar canes, reindeers.

Now, if you asked him what was Christmas for him, Minho wasn’t sure he had one answer that didn’t comprehend Newt. Christmas was Newt in ugly sweaters, Newt wrapping presents for his friends, Newt wandering around their room in the middle of the night singing songs that had nothing to do with Christmas, Newt using Minho’s clothes to decorate a snowman. Christmas was Newt looking at Minho with that little smile of his, a present behind his back and a Santa hat on his head.

He remembers Newt. He remembers many things about Newt: the way he frowned when he was thinking, the way he scrunched his nose when he tried to memorize some particular difficult quote for his exams… he remembers Newt the day he left for Korea.

He had looked at him, with his head held tight and a sad smile on his face.

“Minho. It might not look like it, right now, but I am proud of you. And I will miss you. You are doing the right thing. Chase your dreams, but don’t forget me.” He had wiped a tear from his eye. “I won’t forget you.”

Minho had smiled at him, and then waved him goodbye, his heart clenched in a million knots but conscious of doing the right thing.

And now he was back.

Minho stared at his phone in his hands for a few minutes, before typing in the number that he had never ever forgotten. Yes, he was that whipped.

He remembered how many times he had typed in the number and chickened out right before pressing the call button. He hesitated for a second. Fuck it, he thought, pressing call. It was Christmas Eve, after all.

Minho stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, as he heard the phone ringing. Once, twice, thrice, four times…

Someone picked up at the fifth ring. “Hello?” said a voice. His voice. His beautiful voice, that Minho had not heard in three years.

His mouth started curving into a smile. “Hello from the other side.”

Silence. Then he heard a small chuckle. “Minho? Aren’t you supposed to have grown up?”

Minho remained silent for a beat, enjoying the way Newt’s familiar voice pronounced his name, the gentleness with which the blonde boy always spoke.

He looked out of the window, the not so snowy panorama before him. “Merry Christmas, Newt.”

“Merry Christmas, Minho.”

Maybe, Christmas miracles existed.

 


End file.
